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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973336">I WANT TO PUT MY ALL IN YOU</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SILKCUT/pseuds/SILKCUT'>SILKCUT</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ɪɴꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʙʏ ꜱɪʟᴋᴄᴜᴛ [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fandom, BLACKPINK (Band), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Character Study, Everyone has mutant powers except poor Syla/Jisoo, F/F, Inscribed by SILKCUT, Lesbian Yearning, Mutants, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sapphic Dalliance, Twitter Solo Roleplay, i ask only for suspension of belief to the extreme, love and consequence, so many headcanons it will make your head spin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SILKCUT/pseuds/SILKCUT</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the encore, they trail backstage for last-minute wardrobe changes. A darkened corner welcomes each girl as well as two pairs of hands that were trained to unravel idols during intermission. </p><p>Shea’s dress is peeled off like an exoskeleton, leaving her back exposed towards Syla. The perspiration and glitter on the other girl’s skin almost causes her mouth to water, but Syla averts her gaze just in time before the knot on her gut becomes something deadlier.</p><p>The last dance on stage brings the girls’ bodies closer together yet still galaxies apart. </p><p>[<i>BLACKPINK alternate versions as mutants in a world where only mutants exists</i>]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Jisoo/Park Chaeyoung | Rosé</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ɪɴꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʙʏ ꜱɪʟᴋᴄᴜᴛ [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132040</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I WANT TO PUT MY ALL IN YOU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>ﾒ</strong>
</p><p>Ｓｙｌａ Ｃｒａｎｅ</p><p>
  <strong>ﾒ</strong>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p>
<h2 class="wsite-content-title">Ｉ ｗａｎｔ ｔｏ ｐｕｔ</h2><h2 class="wsite-content-title">ｍｙ ａｌｌ ｉｎ ｙｏｕ</h2><h2 class="wsite-content-title">
  <strong>༻✧</strong>
</h2><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>With a face that could stun the unaccustomed onlooker, Syla Crane has never been the softest of girls.</p><p>She’s also hardly nervous as soon as she steps onto a platform that would ascend to the center stage. It was the one place in this universe of chaos and chance where her footing is stable after all.</p><p>The two shots of sour whiskey she downed from fifteen minutes ago now becomes a knot at the pit of her stomach—a pleasure unrivaled. It coils knowingly in all the right spots, like a well-skilled lover would flicker their tongue against her clit.</p><p>Meanwhile, trumpets soar from the stage where the stadium of rabid fans awaits. The girls are underground still, since their ascent would take several seconds just for the sake of building up anticipation.</p><p>On her right is Laquisha Lore—the tallest of their foursome—whose braided ponytail and frosted tips are as perfect as the rest of her glamazon ensemble. She’s smiling, for she’s no doubt excited to win the audience all over again tonight, as she’s done so ever since their debut three years ago.</p><p>Gemma Ursula was on the left. Aside from the leather black mini skirt and silver-lined corset, her most captivating feature has to be that intense look of concentration under layers of mascara and eye shadow. It belongs to someone who used to be in a lot competitive sports. The athlete in Gem never left, and it shows in how she danced and entertained</p><p>As for herself, Syla is somewhere in the spectrum of Laquisha’s laidback charm and Gem’s more ambitious approach. Even <em>she</em> doesn’t always understand where she should land, and that’s why it’s so exciting to be in the ‘biz. Every now and then, the swing of the pendulum is blown by the forceful winds of the youngest member of Ionic Bond, Shea Bloom.</p><p>The girl in question stands a bit further on Gemma’s right. Her honey-blonde hair is tinged with the color of rosé wine, enhanced by the black cocktail dress whose cleavage is encrusted in pink diamonds.</p><p>In a world where everyone is already special, Shea seems to be touched by something ferocious and divine.</p><p>Syla forces herself to quit staring at a girl she’s hesitant to simply call a ‘friend’. There’ll be plenty of time to bask in her presence after this show (maybe even during the party back at the private suites).</p><p>For now there’s the music.</p><p>Once they are hoisted up, the vibrant colors of the backdrop would make their monochrome but glittering dresses pop. Harmonized vocals among the four girls would reverberate, reaching for miles and miles, as the same lyrics are chanted back by eager young fans that swarmed across the stage like bees to honey.</p><p>The tempo is merciless yet also fluid in each song as they pile one after the other in a breathless staccato. Everyone’s world in that moment is caught in a kaleidoscopic sequence, punctuated by the swinging hips of four talented girls during synchronized choreography.</p><p>They’re howling forces against tidal waves of blaring bass and synth-pop beats.</p><p>Before the encore, they trail backstage for last-minute wardrobe changes. A darkened corner welcomes each girl as well as two pairs of hands that were trained to unravel idols during intermission. Shea’s dress is peeled off like an exoskeleton, leaving her back exposed towards Syla. The perspiration and glitter on the other girl’s skin almost causes her mouth to water, but Syla averts her gaze just in time before the knot on her gut becomes something deadlier.</p><p>The last dance on stage brings the girls’ bodies closer together yet still galaxies apart. Their muscles go from taut to lax then back again during the grace of execution.</p><p>Gemma dips to the side, pumping up the crowd with a rally call whilst Laquisha makes a dash out front to brandish her raps until words lose meaning and become only cutlass and burns.</p><p>Belting out her best alto, Syla’s voice is a rising tide among gurgling waters. People had claimed it recognizable even in a choir of twenty singers, and especially if half of them don’t posses her unique octave and register—which was often an acquired taste for many.</p><p>The song winds down when Shea opens her throat. The prima donna and catcher in the rye, she leaves behind a sweet aftertaste when she spins on the edge of the stage. Tiny halos reflect on her diamond-crusted chest, her wild blonde locks whipping, obscuring and revealing her face like a magic trick. Carrying a nightingale tune, Shea might as well spread wings and let the sky take her.</p><p>Even when it ends, nothing else does for Ionic Bond. The after-party is another swirling melting pot; a standard when it came to every meet-and-greet with the girls. Syla lingers for an hour for the sake propriety and publicity, but in reality she’s just waiting for what Shea will do next.</p><p>That’s why she would casually turn her head to feign looking at something else when in truth she’s keeping tabs of how far along Shea has gone with the signings and photos.</p><p>Gemma rolls her eyes at Syla the second they lock eyes next, knowing instantly what the other is thinking. It’s not the hardest leap to make, especially since Syla has gotten to a point in which she downsized most of her thoughts for the betterment of her work as a performer—and anything related to Shea. Gemma doesn’t say it, but she finds it tedious that her friend can’t get over this little crush.</p><p>The lines came in pairs for each girl behind the long table. Management decided that the first line would be for the autographs while the second one is for those who already got the autographs and now need to fall into another line so they can get pictures taken with their idol of choice. It’s efficient organization so that every fan could get a full minute with whomever Ionic Bond girl they fancy.</p><p>“I’m going to that new club that just opened up by the interstate,” Laquisha turns to whisper into Syla’s ear just as they’re nearing the last twenty autographs to sign, just two hours into it, “Wanna come?”</p><p>Syla’s eyes flicker to Shea. Much like back at the platform, she’s on Gemma’s side, presently engaged in taking photos and laughing with whatever anecdote an eager fan is spouting out.</p><p>“I don’t think Shea’s in the mood to party tonight,” As if reading her mind (though it’s most likely because Syla doesn’t even bother to be discreet), Laquisha adds, still talking in Korean since a lot of these fans right now are English speakers. “She told me she wants to order everything on the hotel’s menu and feast. We all know about her massive appetite.”</p><p>The commentary was innocent, but it didn’t stop Syla’s cheeks from flushing either way. She turns her attention back on the line before her which is steadily dwindling in the last hour. Among all four, Syla is the least favorite idol. She’s made peace with this, because those who do chase after her do so with enough gusto and frenzy that perhaps a small percentage of the fan base is all Syla can deal with. It’s comparably small to what Laquisha and Shea get respectively.</p><p>“I guess I’ll stay behind too…” she mutters softly, almost to herself, yet it was a decisive action nonetheless.</p><p>The taller woman shrugs with a smile resumes signing. There’s a blur on the table as she writes. The advantage of being a speedster is that she’s already signed twice the amount of autographs, so that there are only five people left for each line on her side of the table. These fans look upon their idol with nervous anticipation, with a few even whispering to themselves as they wear matching grins.</p><p>Laquisha’s mutation allows her to do anything in a fast pace that defied physics at times. But she still finds time to make it personal with the fans, delighting them with her down-to-earth charm the entire time.</p><p>Meanwhile, Gemma already knows what they’re talking about, so she waits for a small break in between her own signings and picture-taking before she turns to both girls, “I’m meeting with a designer early tomorrow so I’ll be going to bed as soon as this wraps up.”</p><p>“I heard about that,” Laquisha smirks, “That means I’m going solo tonight then, yeah? More boys and girls for me! I’ll post pics. Check them out whenever.” The implication being is that she won’t be coming home until tomorrow. She’s also possibly going to be hungover but pleased with herself regardless.</p><p>Gemma waves a hand, “Do whatever you like, party girl.” Like most conversations with the woman, she seems almost always disinterested, even to her closest friends. But she’s cataloguing every detail anyway, and never hints what she really thinks—let alone how she feels.</p><p>“Don’t use the group feed for this again, okay?” Syla advises, “You know how the manager gets when you personalize the account for your own whims. We have our own accounts for socializing outside.”</p><p>Laquisha laughs as she plays with her ponytail. Cheekily, she says in a hushed voice, “Right, right. As if he’s not getting revenue for the views and likes on our page every time it’s me on a post.”</p><p>She’s not exaggerating. They are the most bankable group on this side of the galaxy; everything they do breaks records and keeps the cash flow as a steady stream of marketing opportunities.</p><p>“So you and Shea…” Laquisha’s smile is automatically suggestive, “…gonna party on your own tonight with complimentary food and drinks, huh? Sounds like it’ll be more fun than what I have going on.”</p><p>“There’s room for you if you want to stay.” But Syla doesn’t want a third wheel. Not tonight. Not when it seems like Shea is finally giving Syla the green light for them to stay in the suites together.</p><p>Just the two of them.</p><p>Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Laquisha slaps Syla playfully on her arm, “<em>Please</em>. I go where I’m wanted most. And tonight it’s Lotus Fever.”</p><p>“Tacky name,” Gemma whispers under her breath in English his time.</p><p>“Tacky but hot,” Laquisha interjects in a teasing tone, exaggerating the syllables in English, “My kind of scene, darlings.”</p><p>To the outsider, the three girls are just chatting normally as friends ought to, but Syla can guess pretty much guess what Laquisha and Gemma are thinking. The former is somewhat supportive of the idea that her two best friends may get together beyond the constricting labels of the work relationship they all share, but the latter still has reservations.</p><p>That has more to do with the fact that Gemma finds fraternizing counterproductive. And Syla is the one she’s always felt a kinship with, who shared her vision and ambition and placed everything on the line for this demanding career in the spotlight. They also trained for long hours together every day in the last seven years before their eventual successful debut. It was always just the two of them before Laquisha and then Shea came along and stole the scenes.</p><p>So, yes, Gemma is not happy with the fact that Syla is ‘distracted’. And yet Syla also knows it’s because Gemma doesn’t think Shea is worth the trouble. She’s always been a little insecure about the younger girl. After all, Shea is well-loved by the fan base from the get-go, and she never has to try. She and Laquisha are the magnets of Ionic Bond; they pick up everything and everyone around them without effort.</p><p>Meanwhile, the older girls Syla and Gemma can be intimidating to their impressionable fans. Most find Gemma’s ruthless pursuit of perfection and high-fashion sensibilities alienating, much like Syla’s beauty and reticence that’s contrasted by her sardonic oddball sense of humor (which doesn’t translate well during interviews, though her zealous fans would debate it’s her best feature).</p><p>Several minutes later, a fan wheels in a large portrait of Gemma made with some kind of sparkling material that enhanced the idol’s glamorous beauty. In the painting, she was garbed in her favorite Chanel attire, facing the camera with a glint of fierce confidence behind her eyes. There’s scattered applause from the people within the conclave upon seeing the portrait. Gemma herself is pleasantly shocked. Even with her hardened exterior, her friends know that she’s easily touched by gestures made by those who appreciate what she offers to the world as a performer.</p><p>It makes Syla smile in spite of everything else. This was the Gemma she knew behind the curtains her friend frequently drapes herself in to evade further scrutiny of her personal life, including her inner demons.</p><p>Said woman rises from her seat rather shakily, unable to feign professional restraint as her cheeks color. A hand covers her mouth while she keeps her gaze on her own image.</p><p>The fan who painted it (a twenty-something college student) explained he mixed aluminium oxide into the canvass, which was notable since that means it’s fire-resistant. At that comment, Gemma raises her eyebrows. She then lowers her hand and—after bequeathing a tiny smile at the man—she purses her lips and blows.</p><p>Her breath instantly unleashes flames. They curl across the image of herself, the fire licking through the shimmering colors without destroying anything in its path. More applause happens around them; even Laquisha and Syla are clapping. Shea doesn’t join in. The youngest Ionic Bond merely cups her cheek in one hand and slyly leans in to inspect what happens in the aftermath of that small conflagration.</p><p>“Remarkable,” Gemma turns to her fan and gives him an empathic squeeze on his forearm. “I’ll cherish this for a very long time.”</p><p>Her clipped New Zealander accent is spoken in such tender gentility that it’s no surprise that the man is blushing as he breaks into an anxious smile. Gemma removes her hand and asks for security to take the portrait somewhere for safekeeping. They only had to wait for a few more seconds before the flames completely extinguish.</p><p>Syla looks towards Shea, and the other girl meets her gaze. They smile at each other.</p><p>The knot on her stomach deepens, making her insides shiver in the most delectable way. Syla, however, is forced to break contact so she can gather her wits. In the corner of her eye, however, she senses that Shea is beaming in that adorably smug way she often does whenever she realizes that she caught the other girl off-guard.</p><p>That same sensation doesn’t relent even after everyone has packed up, and Laquisha’s already joined her very own entourage for tonight’s party shenanigans. This leaves Syla and Gemma by the hallway leading to the private elevator that will take them back to the suites. There’s no sign of Shea. Did she go to the washroom in the meantime and will just join them later?</p><p>“Can you spare me a hydrating mask tonight? I think I went through my last one…” Gemma takes out her key-card as the pair of them saunters on the hallway of the fifty-second floor.</p><p>“Sure, I’ll meet you in your room in a minute,” Syla has also found her own key and inserted it onto the slot at the same time Gemma had.</p><p>She stands side by side with her friend facing different doors, as the girls were merely separated by the flimsy barrier of knowing-too-much of what’s going to happen tonight once Shea is back in the picture.</p><p>“Listen,” Syla waits for Gemma to meet her gaze before she adds, “We aren’t going to do anything stupid, me and her.”</p><p>Gemma laughs, “I doubt you have any idea what that actually means.”</p><p>“Why don’t you tell me?” Syla raises an eyebrow. “Sometimes you act as if your superpower is to read minds and not control fire.”</p><p>Her friend purses her lips before retorting, “I just don’t think…” she looks away and pretends to inspect her key right before she pushes the door open, “…I just don’t think that Shea wants you the same way you want her. I’m not going to be happy if that hurts you eventually.”</p><p>Gemma makes the last sentence sound as if that possibility was only inevitable.</p><p>She could have just let it go. Her own door has swung open now too. But at the last second before she stepped inside the darkness, she has to ask Gemma, “What do you even mean?”</p><p>And her friend shakes her head, not looking at Syla at all as she says, “You’re in love, Sy. But she isn’t.”</p><p>Syla’s eyes narrow as a heavy pause ensues between them. Afterwards she disappears into the black without bothering to turn on the lights. She knows where she keeps the bag of her toiletries anyway. When Syla emerges again, Gemma is already inside her own suite. Nevertheless she strides in and places the face mask on the nearby table next to the bathroom where she hears running water.</p><p>“You can’t know that,” she tells her friend in a dangerously quite tone.</p><p>An interval passes before Gemma’s challenging question echoes against the tiles. “Can you?”</p><p>Syla leaves.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>⋯💎 ⋯💎 ⋯💎 ⋯</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Shea orders room service in Syla’s suite instead of her own. She’s draped herself across a couch near the large windows that overlook the sparkling city below.</p><p>Since they’re no longer Syla Crane and Shea Bloom the pop idols, they wore comfortable pajama bottoms and plain sleeveless shirts. Shea—with her nineteen-inch waistline—has tied the hem of her baby pink shirt in a knot that exposes her belly button. Her honey-blonde hair is styled into two buns atop her head, making her look like an anime character. Her personality certainly matches that aesthetic.</p><p>“Why are you sitting so far away, <em>unnie</em>?” she blinks at Syla who was indeed sitting on a stool with no back support, which meant she’s been maintaining a poised posture in the last few minutes or so, with her hands on her lap.</p><p>This position was no big deal, since Syla studied in a very classy and conservative prep school where good manners and breeding are far more important things women should excel at, and not just academics. Among the Ionic Bond, she’s also the only one who finished two college degrees, a major in Business Management and a minor in Visual Arts, and at only twenty-one years old.</p><p>Shea has said many times how much she finds Syla’s intellect <em>sexy</em> and wishes she didn’t have to drop out of school at fourteen. But then again, her one true passion lies in making music, so she supposed a formal education would soon bore her, given her restless free spirit and desire to be on the spotlight far more often than blending in the crowd.</p><p>“I really liked your gift from before…” the younger girl almost purrs as she stretches her captivatingly slender figure across the couch, like a feline that just woke up. “I’m so used to being spoiled twice during my birthday that I expect two gifts every February 14.”</p><p>The corners of Syla’s mouth quirks into an amused smile, “Do you really? I guess being a Valentines baby meant you like to indulge in decadence during your special day.”</p><p>“<em>Unnie</em>, that’s a little unfair,” Shea pouts, “I’m not into extravagance. I like something…a little more personal with my gifts, regardless if it’s pricey or not. That’s why I liked what you got me. Made me feel very special. In all the right places.”</p><p>And she leaves the couch so she can position herself on the floor facing Syla. Coyly, Shea places her hands upon hers, the warm palms seemingly harmless in their intent as they brush against her skin.</p><p>Syla only blinks and doesn’t say a word. The younger girl is only nineteen and has never dated anyone serious, especially since heir management is very strict about how much they can have social lives outside their demanding careers as entertainers. But goddamn did she enjoy flirting with everyone whom she knew wanted her.</p><p>Including Syla. <em>Especially</em> Syla.</p><p>Tension appears in the older woman’s expression as her eyebrows knit together. But soon enough it’s washed away by the smile she allows to pass through while she stares down at Shea.</p><p>“You were amazing earlier,” she remarks, her tone as bland as possible so as not to reveal the secret stirrings coming alive within her chest, “If you could grow wings, you would have had already, I think.”</p><p>“That’s not my mutation though,” Shea laughs as she scoots closer so she could rest the side of her head on Syla’s lap, “But I guess it’d be nice if I was a winged mutant instead. I could just fly away whenever I don’t want to be in this place anymore.”</p><p>“Is that how you feel?” Syla can’t help but ask, “Do you feel trapped?”Trapped in their contract? In the demanding fastlane of their careers that guarantees success and fame but not always personal satisfaction?</p><p>Shea’s quiet for a moment or two before she finally answers.</p><p>“I mean, doesn’t everyone at some point? Life can suffocate even the best of us, I think, so we need remind ourselves to breathe.”</p><p>“Breathing is an involuntary action.”</p><p>“I wasn’t being scientific about it, <em>unnie.</em>”</p><p>“I know. I was just teasing.”</p><p>Shea snorts, “And you like teasing me, is that it?”</p><p>Her honey-blonde strands spill like angel hair from this angle, and the sight of them—as well as the hint of vulnerability in the girl’s tone earlier—compels the older woman to brush her fingers through the strands. Her touch is reverent and yet hardly sisterly.</p><p>As if sensing the intent, Shea’s left arm extends twice its length. It stretches like clay so that she can do the same thing for her <em>unnie</em> even with the position she was in on the floor. Her slender digits rake through Syla’s darker strands, and the touch was far more confident—playful, even. The older woman couldn’t help using her other hand to run her palm against that extended arm, the pliable muscle and sinewy unnaturally longer than average.</p><p>Shea’s skin is so smooth and warm. And the very thought of how much smoother the younger woman could get (in case she dared allow her hand to dip lower and move past the fabric of her snug clothes) takes the breath away.</p><p>“It’s okay,” Shea lifts her head and rises to her feet next. Her arm retracts as the same hand cups Syla’s cheek. “I know why you think I can’t possibly want you.”</p><p>“Oh, do you?”</p><p>“You said it doesn’t bother you, but I know it does,” the younger woman’s tone is reproachful in its gentility, matched by the deep pools of her dark eyes, “But it happens more often than you think. Not everyone unlocks their mutation when they reach puberty. Maybe you’re just a late bloomer.”</p><p>Syla’s jaw clenches. This was a topic of conversation she’d rather not tackle. Against her better judgment though, she snaps, “And how does my lack of mutation affect my desirability to others? To you?”</p><p>“<em>Unnie,</em>” Shea looks troubled. But then she breaks into a smile seconds later, adding. “<em>Unnie</em>, I’m sorry. Even when you’re mad, you still look so beautiful. How do you do it?”</p><p>The shift in tone just as the tension was growing is a welcome reprieve, so Syla allows it. She also smiles back, even if it’s still cold around the edges. “I don’t know. Genetics can be a funny thing, I guess.”</p><p>“So is wanting someone…” Shea swings from side to side playfully, “Wanting them so much that it hurts here…”</p><p>And she presses a hand on her chest, the delicate pale fingers splayed atop her bosom like the most innocent thing in the world, and yet it makes Syla’s mouth go dry nonetheless.</p><p>The women lock gazes the entire time as Shea lowers that same hand from her chest down the tantalizing pathway that leads to her flat stomach. The forefinger and middle start to trail absentmindedly across her exposed belly button right before she slithers further until she’s cupping herself between the thighs.</p><p>“And here,” she whispers it like a secret, “It hurts worse here.”</p><p>Heart pounding in her ears, Syla gulps as inconspicuously as she can manage and offers, “Should I make it feel better?”</p><p>“Yes,” Shea sounds a little less assertive as her cheeks color upon her own request, “I want you to kiss it away.”</p><p>Whiskey-flavored excitement mingles with the knot of anxiety still raging in her gut, but it only propels Syla to reach around the waistband of the younger woman’s pajama bottoms and pull them down. Shea seems only too happy to shimmy off them while her hands take Syla’s and guides them. The older woman does not have the luxury to appreciate the lacy panties her friend has on at the moment, preferring to peel it away quickly so that she can soothe the ache, as Shea has requested. </p><p>As if she’s done this many times before, the blonde backs away until she feels the edge of the nearby table behind her. Shea’s always been so nimble so it doesn’t take that much effort to slide her rear on the surface and spread her legs apart. The rosy tinge on her inner thighs is either natural or brought about by impeding arousal; either way, Syla takes a second or two to appreciate it.</p><p>“Hurry up, <em>unnie</em>,” Almost impatiently, the well-toned legs extend the same way her arm did earlier. They may look deceptively jelly-like, but these legs prove to be strong as they curl around the older woman’s back, tying themselves like ribbons, to pull Syla closer.</p><p>It wasn’t as if she’s going to fight this. The older woman affords a smirk as she lowers to her haunches, all while her palms graze the skin under Shea’s legs to further light the other woman aflame. Tiny strained noises of approval escape Shea soon enough, which she takes as a cue to lean and part her lips for worship, for hungry claim.</p><p>“Ohhh…Sy…” Shea shivers in her grasp, “Sy…Syla…ohhh!”</p><p>Her actual name (and not <em>unnie</em> this time) ricochets between the younger woman’s ragged breaths, causing her moans to become almost melodious. Syla should have known that even when she’s being pleasured, Shea would still sound like she’s singing a tune.</p><p>The foreplay is always the best part of lovemaking, especially when it came to a pair of women who have denied and delayed it for so long. Syla can’t think of any place more perfect than to be cradled between another woman’s thighs like this, as the expertise of her tongue swirls like a revelation on the nucleus of Shea’s universe. Its relentless strokes would no doubt force the other to see stars behind her eyes through the haze of dizzy delight.</p><p>When two of Syla’s fingers slide home, Shea gasps out the neediest moan. Her elastic body loosens, the muscle control becoming lax so that everything becomes in flux. Her limbs shrink or extend, dependent on the deepening of arousal. Syla is pleased with the effect, because she knows that no matter how openly flirtatious Shea tends to act around women susceptible to her charms, her carnal experiences are pretty much non-existent. She feels rather smug knowing she’s the cause of this unravelling.</p><p>This has to be the very first time Shea has allowed someone’s mouth to know who she is, what she craves, and how much she’d give anything for the forceful rush of coming apart to break the restraints she didn’t think she even had. It’s apparent in the way she’s breathing heavily that she needs to cum soon, and cum as much as her body can take it. A grunt punctuates this desire, her hips rolling forward so that she can get as much as the other woman’s mouth around her quaking quim.</p><p>Syla pauses only to glance up just in time as Shea looks down too.</p><p>The younger woman has been forcing herself to stay upright even with her elbows implanted on the table sliding a few times. A thin layer of perspiration coats her neck, creating mist as the heat travels down to the valley of her small breasts that are slightly damp and pressed so tightly on the fabric that restrains them. Meanwhile, the shorter stands of blonde hair which framed her cheeks are plastered against the skin.</p><p>Lips glistening as she smiles, Syla murmurs, “I want to be inside you…” she says it in English before switching to their shared native tongue, “I want to feel everything when you burst because of my fingers buried deep in you. Better than anything you could ever imagine”</p><p>She rises and wastes no time grabbing Shea’s legs so that she could slide perfectly between them. “You won’t ache for anything again—for anyone or anything—no other woman, especially no man—but me.”</p><p>“<em>Unnie</em>—Syla…” She could only gaze in dumbfounded thrill at the older woman, the English flowing out of her since it was her first language and not Korean. “I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you during that very first rehearsal. I…please…please just…just fucking take me.”</p><p>By this point Shea’s hips are already rocking back and forth even before Syla slips in two fingers. The velvety texture of the younger woman’s slickness which tightens around her digits causes Syla to groan against her neck. One arm circles behind Shea so that she could keep them steady as they fucked. A third fingers soon enters while Shea stares desperately into her eyes, pleading for speed during the never-ending onslaught of digits thrusting and curling inside her, as Syla’s thumb punishingly swipes on her clit in intervals.</p><p>With their combined weight on the table, the legs creak whilst they skitter backwards across the floor a few paces. It matches the tempo of the girls grinding against one another.</p><p>The next heat-filled minutes are intense yet never meant to last for eternity for this is but a stolen moment of euphoria. Syla impatiently gets rid of their confining shirts so that their breasts can brush against each other for more friction. Sweat trickles down their excited bodies as Syla once more slips inside the other woman. The strain of chasing after an orgasm together shortens their mingled breaths as they kiss, flushed skin sizzling during the collision and need for release.</p><p>Shea cups Syla’s breasts next and stretches her elastic body again so that she can dip to capture a pert nipple inside her mouth. The sudden wet intrusion of tongue followed by teeth pinching on that sensitive spot makes Syla throw her head back. It was in that moment that she stopped holding anything back.</p><p>She digs her nails on the Shea’s scalp and forcibly wrenches her away so that she could kiss her hard instead, almost bruising their mouths. The younger woman ends up swallowing a delighted laugh as soon as their tongues dance. Meanwhile, her elongated limbs wrap around Syla twice, their magnificent elasticity like strings of fate binding them together. To each other. And hopefully forever.</p><p>Gemma is right. Syla’s in love. She’d been in love before her mind could even comprehend it.</p><p>“Syla! Syla, I’m so close…<em>unnie</em>…god…hnngmmmff…!”</p><p>She could barely keep her eyes open as sweat drips from her hairline and into her eyelashes. But her hand’s aim is true as she changes the angle slightly before pulling back so that her thumb and forefinger can focus instead on Shea’s clit. Said girl hisses with each stroke, the combination of agony and pleasure no doubt turning her mad.</p><p>“Go on,” Syla breathes against the other woman’s lips, drinking in hers in return. Her eyelids flutter shut at the upheaval that she anticipates is about to smash into her, threatening to weaken her knees as she tries to keep herself upright—but not her hold on the back of Shea’s head. The nails embed themselves on the scalp, tugging at the beautiful locks she daydreamed about brushing so many times before.</p><p>“Sy!” With a sharp intake of breath, Shea shudders and becomes literal butter in her grasp. The bones of her body seem to disintegrate, leaving only a large expanse of rosé-colored skin as it spreads itself against the surface of the table beneath them. It happens in a flash of three seconds before her body reverts back into something human-shaped once more—from her clavicle emerging, to her breasts, and then back to the shapely thighs that quiver underneath Syla’s knowing touch.</p><p>“Fuck, <em>unnie!</em>” she chuckles between ragged breaths and swallows. Syla watches as Shea gathers the sticky strands of hair on her temples and cheeks next, sighing as she comes down from the high.</p><p>It’s only after their eyes meet once more that Shea’s expression changes to mild shock. “Shit, Sy—oh my god, are you…?”</p><p>“What?” Syla blinks. The blinking becomes more rapid when the younger woman reaches forward and tries to touch her. But instead her hand makes contact at nothing and simply passes through her ribcage—or at least at what she assumed should have been where her chest was. But her heart is still beating at least. It skips a few times as soon as Syla looks down at herself.</p><p>“<em>Unnie,</em> you became invisible!” Shea states the obvious as she rolls away from the table so she can stand and appraise the older woman’s transformation. “Well, more like <em>transparent</em> because you’re glossy, and I still know where you are. But hey, this is incredible, Sy! Do you think we just triggered your mutation?”</p><p>“I—” Syla lifts her hands. The girl’s right; she could still see semblance of her body parts but in a see-through sort of way. But there’s also a strange reddish glow on the outline of her digits which goes all the way to the rest of her extremities.</p><p>“What else? How about my face? My eyes? You think I’ll stay this way or what?”</p><p>“Your eyes are so blue! Like…like ocean water that hardened into ice, I think. I don’t know. I wonder what that could mean as far as powers go. Maybe you can shoot something out of them now?”</p><p>“What? Like what?”</p><p>“Don’t be alarmed. This happens to everyone when their mutation comes out for the first time,” Shea reaches to soothe her. “Can you feel this at least?” She means the hand that’s presently petting her on the shoulder.</p><p>“No,” In spite of her best efforts, Syla is panicking. “What if I stay this way? How are we going to explain to the management? To fucking Gemma? She hates change, especially if we don’t give her a two-weeks’ notice first.”</p><p>But Shea seems to think all those concerns are trivial in the wake of this discovery. The look of fascination is still behind her eyes whilst she begins to move in a circle to inspect Syla’s see-through form.</p><p>A hearty giggles escapes the younger woman next so she covers her mouth, “<em>Unnie</em>, I can’t believe we triggered this during sex!”</p><p>Even in her current state, Syla hopes the darkening of her expression still comes across. “This isn’t funny, Shea Bloom!”</p><p>“No, of course not! But it’s unique and pretty! And I’m so touched it happened while we were making love!”</p><p>“Stop making this about that, you idiot!” Syla is still annoyed, but the panic has subsided by now at least. The more she moves her hands before her face and attempts to walk, the more impressed she becomes with this newfound ability.</p><p>In the last twenty-one years, she’s always felt so different in the worst way possible. Everyone’s a mutant in this world, that’s the norm. She’d been patient enough to wait for her turn because there was recorded statistics for ‘late-blooming mutants’. In the meantime, she studied to earn good degrees from college and then trained hard to become a worldwide sensation in the entertainment industry.</p><p>But something is still missing, especially when she’s surrounded day-by-day by three gorgeous women who can respectively run laps across cities in incredible speed, breathe and control fire, and bend her body into any kind of shape imaginable. That only serves to remind that Syla couldn’t be a whole person yet if she hasn’t unlocked her mutation.</p><p>“I think you look just as beautiful like this so be happy, <em>unnie</em>,” Shea comes close to wrap her arms around Syla who is still elusive for the time being. The only downside is that she can’t feel the warmth of her naked friend, but ultimately this is good news. She’s normal after all.</p><p>“I guess this means I need to get my medical as soon as possible and enroll into the registry,” Syla attempts to rest her chin on the crook of Shea’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “But you’re right. I’m happy.”</p><p>“Yes! Powers like this will improve in no time. There are disciplines you can learn, also programs that you can take that could help fine-tune your abilities. And then, if the scale of your mutation reaches the level of omega, you can even—”</p><p>Syla hushes her, “That’s not why I’m happy.”</p><p>Shea is quiet, but there’s a weird spike to her heartbeat that catches the older woman’s attention. Huh. Can she do that now, read people’s vital signs?</p><p>“Is it because of me?” Shyly, the blonde pulls away so they can meet each other’s gaze.</p><p>The only answer Syla offers is a smile. She hopes it translates, because she still has no idea how much of her is visible to the other girl.</p><p>“Okay,” Shea glances across the suite and shakes her head with a laugh, “Oh god, I think our food’s gotten cold. And I blame you for being so damn distracting,<em> unnie</em>!”</p><p>Coyly, the younger woman runs her fingers down the crook of Syla’s elbow before entwining their fingers together at last. The rosé-colored texture of Shea’s skin glows next to the see-through quality of Syla’s.</p><p>“I bet I can make you happier tonight,” Shea murmurs,  “So how about I stay and help you figure out the ways the new you works now?”</p><p>“Oh?” Do her cheeks color, even in her see-through state?</p><p>(God, she wants so badly for Gemma to be wrong. She’s never wanted something or anyone in her life more than Shea.)</p><p>The playful tug of said girl’s smile reveals she has plans, “As the resident elastic girl, I think I would know best what to do about your body, Sy.”</p><p>And the younger woman confidently pulls Syla into the bedroom, leaving their food untouched for another hour tonight.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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